


Another Day

by YourAverageBookworm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, M/M, Post-Magic Reveal, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourAverageBookworm/pseuds/YourAverageBookworm
Summary: Merlin goes off to face a sorceress, but he doesn't come back.





	

It was the third day after the chimera had attacked, and Arthur had his hands full with rebuilding. Uther had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he had three days to devote his attention to the lower towns before he was to help with the castle itself. To be fair, the castle was much more damaged, as it wasn’t the townspeople the creature had been going for (hint: the real target’s name rhymed with “Toother”) but a few collapsed rooms in the castle meant inconvenient relocation, while in the village it was the difference between shelter and freezing to death or starvation. And so Arthur had pulled in all of his knights to help, and the days had been a blur of lifting, building, and clearing.

As this was the last day, they were finishing up all of the largest repairs. Arthur put down the wood he was carrying for a second to watch as Percival picked up a bucket of stones the size of his torso. In the background, Leon was chatting with an elderly woman as he pounded a few bricks into place and Elyan was putting his blacksmithing skills to use and repairing whatever metalwork people brought to him in the blacksmith’s forge. Considering Merlin was currently… busy, that only left…

A hearty laugh sounded out, and Arthur’s head snapped in its direction. Gwaine. The man was working across the courtyard in a villager’s garden, helping to sow the soil and replant any bedraggled plants that could hopefully be considered salvageable. But it was the garden of, Arthur noted, a young, rather fetching woman, and he decided to go see how things were going. Besides, he had something to ask him.

“Gwaine!” He clapped the man on the shoulder. “I heard you laughing and decided to come join in on the merriment.” Gwaine gave him a smooth, shit-eating grin.

“You know what they say Princess, the more the merrier. Lynette here was just telling me about the time her pig escaped and ate half of the chicken seed before it realized what it was.”

“Well,” Arthur said, smiling at Lynette, “you haven’t seen impressive eating habits until you’ve seen Gwaine at a feast.” She giggled.

“Oi!” Gwaine clutched at his heart. “You wound me so. I work hard and honor my kingdom and this is how I’m repaid.” He sighed dramatically and turned to Lynette. “Being a knight is no easy task, milady. Do you see what torment I go through? The amount I sacrifice?”

“Yes, you do look like you’re suffering so right now,” Lynette said, but her eyes were bright with amusement, and Arthur knew he’d already charmed her. Gwaine was a smooth bastard, and if Arthur knew how the man seemed to worm his way into the affection and good nature of everyone, he sometimes wondered at how much easier his own life would be. Maybe things would be easier right now.

“I’m afraid I need to go help some of the other women with the mending. Thank you Sir Gwaine. And you milord.” She tucked her knee into a deep curtsy, smiled at Gwaine, and then hurried off.

Gwaine watched her go with a smile. “Quite the sense of humor, that one. It really was an entertaining tale. But how are you, Princess? Any word yet from Merlin?”

Yes Gwaine could be as smooth as he liked, but he always somehow knew how to go directly for the jugular with Arthur.

“I was hoping you had some.”

Gwaine laughed. “The only way I would get word of Merlin returning before you would be if Merlin were to send a messenger to me on his way to your rooms.”

He couldn’t stop himself from scowling. “Well do you know of anyone else Merlin would contact? It’s been three days—he’s a slow traveler but he’s not usually this slow.”

“Arthur, the only person who doesn’t know how much Merlin values you is you. If he hasn’t contacted you, something is wrong.”

It was the conclusion Arthur had reached as well, but hearing someone else voice it made his stomach drop. Gwaine was the only other person who knew of Merlin’s magic now that Lancelot was dead, and if he didn’t know…

“We had a small… disagreement the night before he left. You don’t think he’s staying away from Camelot to spite me, do you?” His gut turned at the admittance of something so personal, but three days really was a long time for Merlin to be gone, and Uther was getting suspicious as well.

Gwaine regarded him with a raised eyebrow. There was judgment in his gaze and Arthur knew he deserved it, but something in him still bristled. Gwaine might be his knight and good friend, but he was Merlin’s friend first, and he never let Arthur forget it. In the past month since Merlin had told Arthur about his magic, Gwaine had been a mediator of sorts, talking to both sides but comforting Merlin and trying to make Arthur see reason more. (They’d reached a sort of truce, but there was still hurt on both sides, and arguments were constantly bubbling under the surface.) For once Arthur wanted to be the righteous one, but clearly this wouldn’t be the time, especially not with Merlin missing.  

Arthur threw his hands up in the air. “The monster’s dead! Clearly Merlin must have defeated whatever sorcerer was controlling it—you can’t blame me for wondering whether he’s just being petty.”

Gwaine sighed. “Arthur, you know what you need to do and you don’t need me to say it.”

He scowled, but grabbed his helmet and made up his mind to leave at nightfall. “The world is truly changing. When did you become the wise one?”

“I had to— the both of you started acting like idiots.”  

 

* * *

 

 

He made sure to put Sir Ector and Sir Pellinore on watch (He was dearly fond of them but they were older knights kept on by Uther mainly for the sake of honoring their past service, and as such they were always terrible at guarding), so once the sun set, it was easy to slip out, grab his horse, and take off. Luckily, Merlin had hardly been subtle in clearing a path through the forest. Time had been of the essence and he’d broken branches off left and right, most likely with magic. It would have been easy to follow even if Arthur hadn’t been a skilled tracker.

He was soon entering the Darkling Woods, the cool air whistling past him and the scent of greenery all around.  But it was night and quieter, and all Arthur could do now was replay the argument they’d had over and over in his head.

Even after a month, thinking about Merlin having magic still made his gut wrench. The first night after Merlin had told him and he’d ordered him out of his sight, it felt like someone was tearing him in two and hollowing him out. He’d opened himself up so much to someone who’d lied to him all this time, and it wasn’t just Merlin—it was Morgana and maybe his father and who knew who else. Merlin just hurt the most because he thought he’d been careful since Morgana, and he’d really… he liked Merlin. And with all the conversations they’d tried to have about it and all the arguments they’d turned into, the topic had become buried under layers of anger and pain. It had gotten to the point where Arthur didn’t want to see Merlin anymore, let alone think about his magic.

           

(Their argument before the chimera had attacked had been no different.

“How was the meeting?” Merlin had asked as Arthur returned to his room.

For a brief moment, he debated whether to lie, but the subject couldn’t be avoided for long. “Another sorceress has been spotted on the border between Camelot and Mercia. My father wants me to find her.” He watched Merlin’s reaction closely, but the man only made a noncommittal noise and refused to meet Arthur’s eyes.

“And so you’re leaving soon.”

He sighed internally. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this conversation was going, not after this month. “I have no choice. Look Merlin, when was the last time you saw your mother? Perhaps you should visit and help out in Ealdor.”

Merlin tensed. “Is this your unsubtle way of trying to get rid of me?”

Something painful tugged in his gut, but it was a pain that reappeared, it seemed, every time he talked to Merlin now, and it was one he was rapidly growing used to. He was tired of this— tired of the accusations, tired of the inevitable argument, tired of the angry silence that was sure to follow.

“Just… leave me. I don’t require your services for the rest of the night.”

Something like hurt flashed in Merlin’s eyes for a second. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it and gave a short bow.

“As you wish, sire.”

And then he left, and Arthur sat down and tried not to think about how they used to play chess together, and talk for hours when they were both feeling more relaxed.

 

Early the next morning the chimera had attacked. Merlin had slammed open the door to Arthur’s room, a wild look on his face, stammering something about a sorcerer controlling it a distance to the east. Arthur had told him to take care of it before heading out to confront the beast itself.)   

 

How did things get so broken between them? Arthur knew the answer to that too well, but it still felt… They’d been fine a month ago. He’d thought there was something—He shook his head. He’d thought wrong.

But if something really had happened to Merlin and after they’d had this argument, well, guilt was already twisting in Arthur’s stomach. He may be tired and numb to this, but some part of him still cared. They may be arguing and Merlin may have betrayed him, but it wasn’t as if he wanted him to die. They would have sorted this out eventually (maybe) and anyway, even if their relationship came to the worst-case scenario and he and Merlin parted ways, Merlin would have to be alive for that to happen. He sighed and pressed his legs into Llamerei’s sides to make her move a little faster, pushing all further thoughts out of his mind

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it was still dark by the time the path ended. The forest thinned out into a small clearing with a stone house strangely absent of Merlin’s touch, considering the wrecked forest. Signs of a commotion would have been normal—maybe stones strewn around, fire marks scorched into the ground—but no, it was quiet. Somehow that almost made Arthur feel worse.

He dismounted, unsheathed his sword, and crept up to the door with his heart in his throat. Images forced their way into his mind. Merlin lying on the floor, his body broken; Merlin face down in a pool of blood; maybe worse, an empty house, no clues as to whether Merlin was dead or kidnapped or simply had decided he was done with Arthur. The door flew open with a kick, revealing an empty room save a plain stone slab a few feet away with a body lying on top of it.

His heart dropped.

“Merlin!” He ran to the stone, and of course it was Merlin, pale and motionless. Arthur’s sword fell to the ground with a clatter but he barely noticed, too busy pulling his shaking hand out of his glove to check Merlin’s pulse with.

Thank the gods it was still beating.

He let out a sigh of relief, and then anger rushed through him. “Merlin, you dolt, wake up! If this is an inconveniently timed nap, I swear…”

“It’s not a nap.”

He snapped his head around, and a woman was standing behind him. There was nothing particularly peculiar about her appearance. She was middle aged, with light hair and commoner’s clothes. Still, she hadn’t been there before— in this small, empty hut, he would have noticed her.

“Who are you?”

She tilted her head. “To you, I’m the sorceress.” It was said in a tired tone, and that at least Arthur could identify with.

“Look… Let Merlin go, and you have my word that you can leave peacefully. I’m the one who told him to come after you, but we bear you no ill will. We just needed to stop the beast from attacking our kingdom.”

“I know,” she said. “Luckily for you, it’s not you I have a grudge against—I know you and your father are not the same. But while Merlin is indeed trapped in my spell, he can break it any time he chooses. He just simply hasn’t.”

Arthur snorted. “That’s impossible. Merlin’s stubborn as a mule and gives in about as easily.”

She smiled, the edge of her mouth quirking up. “It’s not just any spell—it’s a holding spell. I may not be as powerful as Emrys, but I know how best to use my magic.” She took a few steps towards Arthur. “Only he can break it, but perhaps if I transport your mind into his, you’ll be able to help him.”

Arthur hesitated. While this woman seemed true to her word—she could have killed both of them at this point without a second thought—he also wasn’t sure he was ready to give her consent to play around with his mind as she pleased. Was that a thing? Could sorcerers do more with the other person’s consent?

She seemed to read his thoughts. “He’s trapped inside his mind, and if he stays there for too long, his body will waste away. Look at him.”

Merlin _was_ paler than usual, and perhaps it was Arthur’s imagination but he looked thinner as well. There was no way Merlin had eaten anything in the past three days, Arthur realized with a shock.

“Fine. Just do it quickly.”

She smiled again. “You’d better sit down. I’ll be out of Camelot before you wake, Pendragon, but I hope this helps… clarify some things for you.”

Her tired, smiling face was the last thing Arthur saw before the world went black.

 

* * *

 

When his vision cleared again, he was, for some reason, back in his room. For a split second he thought the woman had lied to him—that she’d teleported him back and left Merlin to die—but then he became aware of off tune humming and the sound of the broom brushing against the floor, and he realized Merlin behind him sweeping up near his desk.

“Merlin!” Emotion welled up in his chest, and he walked up to him, prepared to do something stupid and girly like hug him. “Am I unusually glad to see y—” But his hands passed through Merlin’s body, and Merlin gave no sign that he’d heard him. What…?

The spell. This must be inside Merlin’s mind, and for whatever reason, he couldn’t interact with Merlin at all. Anger rushed through him. What did the witch expect him to do then? He might as well not be here, for all that he could help. But before he could do anything else, the door opened and much to his surprise, another Arthur walked in grinning from ear to ear. Merlin looked up from where he was sweeping the floors and grinned back.

Arthur felt his chest tug. How long had it been since Merlin had smiled at him like that?

“How was the meeting?”

“Oh you know.” Other Arthur unfastened his cape and threw it on his bed before walking up to Merlin and, taking his face in his hands, kissing him. Arthur thought he couldn’t be more shocked, but then Merlin returned it happily. After a couple seconds, they broke apart, and Other Arthur sat heavily down in a chair while Merlin continued sweeping. “Morgana’s fighting me every step of the way on this treaty with the Druids.”

Merlin hummed. “You know it’s just her way of taking her ambassador status seriously. She trying to show you she deserves what you’ve given her.”

“Well she’s giving _me_ a headache. Most people would just send a gift and say ‘thank you’.” 

“Yes, but you’re Pendragons.” Merlin’s voice took on a haughtier tone and dropped an octave. “You can’t express your feelings like normal people—that would be too simple.” A pillow came flying in Merlin’s direction, but he caught it effortlessly and threw it back, laughing. “You know I’m right.”

“Shut up, _Mer_ lin. I don’t need you harassing me too. When was the last time you visited your parents again? Didn’t Balinor need your help with something?”

"Mum and dad are doing fine in Ealdor without me. Don’t think you can get rid of me whenever you please.”

Arthur swallowed hard. It was a sick parody of their argument from a few nights ago.

“Oh believe me, I know. I guess I’m just stuck with you.”

"Ah yes, what a terrible fate.”

“Truly,” but Other Arthur was smiling. “Merlin, can’t you just, you know…” He wiggled his fingers.

Merlin stuck out his tongue, but he waved his hand and muttered a few words. The broom leapt up and danced around the room all by itself, sweeping at a much faster rate than Merlin had been before. “Force of habit—all of those years of doing this manually has ingrained it into me. I blame you.”

“You mean you blame me for asking you to do the job I hired you for?”

They continued like that for a while, bickering and talking about everything from whether they should send one of the new knights in training—someone named Gilli—to Gaius because he’d sprained his shoulder, to discussing the details of making Lancelot head of the knights now that Uther was dead and Arthur had kingly duties, to planning a picnic with Morgana and Gwen. But it wasn’t until Merlin asked, “Oh! Will’s thinking of visiting in a month. Just wanted to let you know, I know how well you two get on,” that Arthur realized why Merlin seemed to be so blind to the truth. It was everything Merlin wanted. No one would ever willingly leave that.

But if this was Merlin’s perfect world then—Arthur flushed—did that mean that Merlin had feelings for him?

This whole thing had been sort of oddly amusing in a way because he hadn’t been sure what to make of it, but with this new realization he suddenly felt the gravity of the situation settle in. Merlin, for all of his wide eyed wonder and grand dreams and amazing power, could only dredge up the hope to stay in Camelot. Or, maybe, he thought hesitantly, it was that this was all Merlin had ever wanted— to stay by Arthur’s side and be loved.

Other Arthur stood up and began saying something, so he snapped himself out of his thoughts and tuned back in to the conversation.

“…need to talk to Gwaine before supper, but I’ll see you.” He kissed Merlin on the cheek. “Merlin? We argue, but you know that I’m thankful, right? For everything you are and have helped me become.”

“You’re such a sap at heart, you know that?” Merlin rolled his eyes, but he was fighting back a smile. “I love you too.” And with another quick kiss, Other Arthur left.

Something painful pulled in Arthur’s chest. He was wronging Merlin by watching all of this, by knowing something so intimate about him. This was the final straw.

“I’m sorry!” He said into the air, hoping someone was listening. “I’m sorry. Please, just… just let me talk to him.” For a second nothing happened, and then he felt a slight shift, like the world was sliding into place. He took a hesitant step forward. His boots hit the floor with a soft thud, and Merlin’s head snapped up in his direction.

“Arthur? I thought you just left.” Then he seemed to really take in all of him. “You’re not my Arthur.”

He almost wanted to laugh. “I _am_ your Arthur. Do you really not remember, or are you trying that hard to forget?”

The only response he received was a blank stare and a slightly furrowed brow.

“Merlin,” he said, a note of desperation creeping into his tone, “you have to remember. A beast attacked Camelot, and a sorceress was controlling it.” Still silence. Arthur couldn’t meet Merlin’s eyes. Oh god. “You went to stop her, and she trapped you here so I came in after you because she said I could help.  I’m sorry, but you’re dying, and I don’t know what else to do, I—”

“Arthur, it’s okay.” Merlin's voice sounded deeper. When he looked up, Arthur was struck by how tired Merlin suddenly looked. “It’s okay,” Merlin said again. “I know now.” He closed his eyes, and sighed, his shoulders slumping like something heavy was being shrugged off.

And around them the stones from the walls began to crumble and fall as if there were a tornado outside pulling everything into it. Soon, the very air and light seemed to shudder and swirl into the vortex, and then everything vanished.

 

* * *

                                                         

The first thing Arthur noticed was that, true to her word, the witch was gone. The second thing was that Merlin was still lying on the slab. Arthur bolted upright and started shaking his shoulders. “Merlin. _Merlin_.” Had it not worked? What—

“Yes, okay, I’m awake,” the figure below him mumbled. “Please stop.”

Arthur pulled his hands back, embarrassed, as Merlin slowly propped himself up and ran a hand through his hair.

“Ohh what a weird… What happened?” He blinked his eyes open. “Why am I… Oh. _Oh._ That was all just a dream, wasn’t it? And now this is real. Was that—I mean, did you…?”

 Relief coursed through Arthur’s veins. Everything was alright—Merlin was awake and talking at least semi-coherently. Before he could think about it, he pulled Merlin in for a quick hug, and then stepped back, suddenly awkward.

“You’re here, and that’s all that matters. We can talk about it later, but for now we should get back to the castle before anyone notices I’m gone.” He walked towards the doorway, more than ready to leave this place and never come back, but as he reached it, he realized he hadn’t heard Merlin get up.

When he turned back, Merlin was still sitting on the stone slab, but something was wrong. It took Arthur a moment to realize that he was staring blankly down at the ground, and there were tears streaking down his face.

“Merlin, are you…?”

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, I—” He rubbed at his eyes with the edges of his sleeves. “Arthur? I don’t…” Merlin looked up then, his eyes wide, and Arthur’s breath caught at how _vulnerable_ he was, with his shirt slightly too large and his nose slightly red. He looked all soft around the edges somehow, and Arthur felt his heart breaking.

“Merlin…” He crossed the room and, hesitantly, remembering the tenderness in Other Arthur, lifted the other man’s face and tried to brush the tears away with a knuckled finger. Merlin closed his eyes, and for a few seconds, it was silent save the sounds of his hitched breathing. They were closer than they’d been in the past month, and Arthur almost didn’t want to break the moment.

Suddenly it felt stupid—all of this, all of their arguments and hurt and grief. Stupid Merlin with his stupid face, for being entirely too fragile for someone with so much power in their body. Stupid Merlin for caring too much for Arthur and Morgana and Gwaine and a million other people. Stupid Merlin for fighting his way into Arthur’s life and making Arthur care about him too much as well.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, and then he leaned in and kissed Merlin softly.

For a second, nothing happened, but then Merlin’s eyes snapped open, and he shoved Arthur back with a surprising amount of strength.

“Is this—Is this because of what you saw?” He said. “Is this what you think you need to do to get me to go back with you, or end our arguments?”

There was anger in his voice and maybe, Arthur thought, more than a little embarrassment.

“No you dolt.” He checked himself. “I did it because I… I _do_ , you know…”

“Do what?”

Christ, was Merlin really this dumb? “I do care about you. A little. Maybe more than a little.” This was harder than he’d thought it would be. But he’d seen Merlin’s greatest desires—all of his hopes laid bare—and Arthur knew could stand to reveal more of himself as well. He swallowed. “Look… we need to talk things out with everything in the open. I’m sorry this past month has been so difficult. It’s mainly my fault. Despite all that’s happened, I really _do_ care about you, and I think I… I mean, before you told me your secret, I was—” Merlin winced, “—and still _am_ a little in love with you. That’s why it hurt so much.”

Merlin smiled sadly. “Well, I don’t think it’s exactly a secret how I feel about you anymore. Everything I’ve done has been for you, Arthur.” He was quiet for a moment. Then, “It’s funny how badly we’ve messed this up, isn’t it? For two people who supposedly care about each other so much?”

Arthur snorted. “I don’t think anything has ever been easy with you.”

“Like you’re one to talk, you emotional clod.”

“Hey is that any way to address your prince?”

“Being a royal emotional clod doesn’t change a thing.”

But they smiled at each other as they spoke, and, Arthur knew that they could be fixed with time. Merlin would stay, and they would have years to set things right.

“Come on, _Mer_ lin. Let’s go home.” He took Merlin’s hand in his, and he felt the other man squeeze it reassuringly.

Outside, the birds were starting to chirp. The sun was rising over the trees, shedding light on the path back to Camelot.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaaaaaah I am tired and nervous and out of practice but at this point I needed to just post this fic to hopefully improve/ get better at writing. Also I love this trope but I haven't seen it used yet in this fandom? So the idea's been stuck in my head for weeks and had to happen at some point. This is the most self indulgent thing I've ever written hahaa
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Constructive criticism/ comments of any sort are welcome :)


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